That evening, Dumbledore came to visit. He found Jimmy and Snape deep in conversation, and stood in the door watching in amusement as Snape patiently explained the differences between Picts, Normans and Celts.
"Severus," Dumbledore said, "it is good to see you making such progress with the boy."
Snape replied, "We are making great strides, Albus."
"1066? Isn't that a bit advanced for a boy his age?"
"Not for him, it would seem."
Dinner passed very pleasantly for the three of them, as they discussed wizarding history instead of Muggle history. Jimmy, of course, didn't know any of this yet, and was fascinated by tales of the wizards of old and of the four founders of Hogwarts.
After dinner, Snape excused himself to attend to grading his students' potion vials, and Dumbledore and Jimmy treated themselves to a large-sized ice cream sundae.
"Uncle Albus?"
"Yes, Jimmy?"
"I don't understand something."
"What do you not understand?"
"I live here, with you, Uncle Remus, Uncle Severus, and Aunt Poppy, but I remember Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley. But they're not here, so how can I remember them? And why do they call me Harry, not Jimmy?"
Dumbledore sat silently, sucking on his ice cream spoon.
"I remember a cupboard under the stairs, and Mrs. Figg's cats, and being hungry sometimes. But there's no cupboard here, and no Mrs. Figg, and I'm not hungry after I eat. It's like I'm remembering things that never happened to me. But it feels like they did…is there something wrong with me, Uncle Albus?"
Dumbledore put down his spoon. He took Jimmy's spoon from his hand, and put it on the table.
"No, Jimmy, there's nothing wrong with you. I have to show you something, though. You may be frightened by what you see, but it will explain things. Are you up to that now?"
Jimmy sat up a little straighter in his chair, and his green eyes were steely.
"Yes, Uncle Albus."
Dumbledore stood up, and the boy did the same. Dumbledore took Jimmy's hand, and started walking toward the door. Jimmy shrank back.
"Aunt Poppy told me that I couldn't go through that door."
"It's OK, Jimmy. I say that you can."
They walked out into the dark hospital ward. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows, and the sheets on the empty beds glowed like ghosts in the darkness. Dumbledore led the boy toward one of the beds.
The boy in the bed was white and still as usual, and the heavy bandages did not completely cover the spiky black hair.
Dumbledore watched the young boy closely as he looked at the face, the hair and then the bandages. He put a hand to his own hair, and then touched the black strands on the pillow.
"He's … me, isn't he?" he asked in a soft voice.
"Yes, Jimmy, he is."
"And the things I remember…they're his, aren't they?"
"Yes. You remember what he remembers, and also what you have done. You have his memories and yours."
"He's hurt."
"He's hurt very badly, Jimmy. He can't wake up, and he has no magic."
Jimmy's eyes were very wide. "He lost his magic?"
"He did. This is a very bad thing. He's the most powerful wizard of his generation, and he has a very important job to do. He can't do it without his magic. That's why you're here."
"I'm going to help him get his magic back?"
"Yes, you are."
"How am I going to do that?"
Dumbledore sighed.
"I'll explain that tomorrow. It's a long explanation. For now, know that you are very important."
"Because of him."
"No, not just because of him. That's part of it. But you're important because of you, too. We love you, and we're very glad that you're here."
He wrapped his arms around the little boy, who turned to him after a moment and hugged him tightly...still keeping his eyes on the face on the bed.
The next day, Remus decided that the morning's lessons would be about the magical world.
"After all," he told the eight-year-old boy in front of him, "you're remembering what you learned in school already. So, I may as well teach you things you haven't learned yet."
By lunchtime, Jimmy had a good working knowledge of how the magical world worked, and even had a couple of simple spells under his belt. Both Lupin and Dumbledore smiled when Jimmy levitated his grilled-cheese sandwich up to his mouth and took a bite.
"Wandless," Dumbledore commented. "Very good, Jimmy. Impressive."
"Thanks, Uncle Albus. This is much more fun than being a Muggle."
"We live in a very different world," said Lupin. "Of the three of us, you're probably the best qualified to know just how different."
"I can do almost anything if I learn enough magic, right?"
"Yes, almost anything," Dumbledore replied.
"But I can't fix Harry. Not with magic."
"None of us can fix Harry with magic. We wish we could. But we need your help."
Jimmy set his jaw resolutely. Lupin remembered...so many things.
"What do I need to do, Uncle Albus?"
Dumbledore told him.
Jimmy was rather quiet for the rest of the day. Snape noted that he seemed to be preoccupied when he wasn't working on his spells.
"Uncle Severus, I'd like to ask you a question."
"Go ahead."
"Uncle Albus and Uncle Remus explained things to me at lunch today. How I got here, how Harry got hurt, and what's going to happen to me."
"Yes, they told me that they had."
Jimmy sat forward in his chair and picked up a pencil. He started to fidget.
"I'm going to lose my magic in a few days. It's going to be taken out of my head and put into Harry's because he has an important job to do. They didn't tell me what. I'm supposed to remember that tomorrow."
Snape sat quietly.
"I'm going to live a for few more weeks, without magic. I'll be a ... a squib here. Nobody even knows I'm here. I'm going to live in this room until I grow old and die. Is that right?"
"Yes, Jimmy. That's correct."
"I'm going to miss magic."
Jimmy sat still for a moment, facing away from Snape. Snape waited. Then, Jimmy turned to face him.
"I don't know if you can tell me this, but I want to know. Why me? I mean, I know why...that's why I'm here. But..."
Snape shook his head. "I can't answer that, Jimmy. I don't know if there's a good answer for that. I'm sorry."
"That's OK, Uncle Severus."
The next morning passed uneventfully. Jimmy continued his lessons with Lupin, and around midmorning asked if he could go out to the ward again. Lupin stood with him as he looked down at the face, which looked much the same as the day before.
The boy standing by the bed had lengthened and grown into a normal, healthy ten-year-old boy. Lupin found it jarring to see two versions of the same Harry Potter before him, a seventeen-year old almost-man and a ten-year old boy. In a few days, when Jimmy caught up to Harry...well, he would think about that later.
As lunch with Lupin, Snape and Dumbledore was ending, Jimmy suddenly looked at Dumbledore.
"I remember now, Uncle Albus," he said breathlessly. "I remember Hagrid coming to get me, and learning that I'm a wizard, and going to Diagon Alley, and meeting Ron and Hermione on the train. It's coming back to me."
"Good, Jimmy," Dumbledore responded. "You're starting to remember all about the rest of us, I'm sure. Would you like to see your friends?"
"Yes, please," said Jimmy.
"Very well, then. Gentlemen, have Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley report here at dinnertime. I think we are in need of a feast."
Dinner that night was held around a big table set up in the main hospital ward. Jimmy knew that Harry had never seen such a feast until he'd gotten to Hogwarts, and they all did justice to the excellent and abundant food. Ron and Hermione were transparently happy to see Jimmy, and the three of them chatted like the trio of old times. It was becoming more and more difficult to remember that the black-haired boy sitting before them was not Harry Potter...whose presence was palpable, even though his bed had been moved behind a screen for the evening.
"Tell me, Ron," Jimmy said around a mouthful of roast chicken.
"What?" Ron said, similarly. Hermione looked from one to the other.
"Ugh, guys," she said. "Chew your food. That's just...ugh."
"Sorry, Hermione," they both said.
Jimmy chewed, swallowed, and said, "Ron, are we still good friends when I'm...uh, Harry's your age?"
Ron nodded. "A few bumps here and there, but we haven't killed each other yet."
"Not for lack of trying to get yourselves killed," Lupin pointed out.
"Dumb luck," Snape added. "Your innate talents for getting into trouble are remarkable."
"Hey, that's not really our fault," Ron sputtered.
"It's Voldemort. He keeps trying to..."
All eyes turned to Jimmy, who had stopped in mid-sentence.
"I remember some of it. He's trying to kill me...Harry, and Harry has to stop him." He turned to Snape. "I remember not trusting you. I'm sorry."
"At the time, the reaction was understandable."
"Thanks. I'm still sorry," Jimmy replied. Ron and Hermione looked at each other uncertainly; Lupin caught their eyes, and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Now was not the time for that particular subject.
"That's Harry's mission that he has to complete...that he has to stop him. No wonder he needs his magic."
"Harry is going to need every bit of magic he can muster to defeat Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "He was nearly killed a year and a half ago. If he loses the next time..."
"We are all dead," Lupin said flatly.
Jimmy nodded.
"And if I give up my magic, I can help stop him."
"Yes, Jimmy," said Lupin. Jimmy looked closely at Lupin's face.
"I can feel it, Uncle Remus," he said. "Others have given up much more than I will have to, haven't they?"
Lupin couldn't speak. He nodded.
"Then I will do what I have to do...I guess I'm lucky in that all I have to give up is magic."
The dinner broke up later, after Ron and Hermione had told Jimmy all about their adventures with Harry over their years at Hogwarts. After the room had emptied and the others had retired for the evening, he padded in bare feet over to the bed behind the screen, and sat down by the side. He took the cold hand in his. Harry's eyelids flickered, but he did not wake.
"Don't worry," Jimmy told the quiet figure, stroking the hair gently with his other hand. "I'll take care of them. We both will. We won't let them down, will we?"
The next day, things fell apart completely.